


John Doe

by TheDeanmon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst, Dean Winchester Tells Bad Jokes, Doctor Castiel (Supernatural), Doctor/Patient, F/M, Father Figure Dean Winchester, Fluff, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-10 16:51:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20531336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDeanmon/pseuds/TheDeanmon
Summary: Dean Winchester had grown up rough, but aged well. His life was perfectly on track. He had a stable job at his uncle's shop, a livable house with his brother, and a relationship with a really nice girl who was definitely way more than he deserved. He was happy with his makeshift family, his drafty house, and his hands-on job. A life with all his favorite things, distractions, kindly, fuck off.Castiel Novak had done his best to defy the odds of blending in with everyone around him. He liked his job and his coworkers and his tight friend group. He was well on his way to being one of the top medical professionals in Santa Clara County. He wasn't necessarily happy, but he was satisfied and that was more than he'd ever expected.Together though, they figure out that sometimes it takes a crash to give you what you really need.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this in 2014 on Wattpad, and it's undergone so many edits since then that it's not even really the same fic anymore. (The original horror show that is my first draft is still up over there so if you like that kind of thing, feel free to check it out.) Also, because it's so different from what it used to be, I have no idea how long it's going to end up, but like, I hope you enjoy it!

Dean Winchester considered himself a fairly patient man. After all, in his line of work, it paid to be patient. Literally. Sometimes it took hours to find the right fix to a really big issue with a car that he hadn't even seen before. That being said though, he only had so much patience when his routine was concerned. Especially when he had work in an hour, and had already woken up late, and Sam had been in the shower for twenty minutes, and - to top it all off - they shared the one bathroom, and the hot water was sure to be depleted. He leaned his head against the wall beside the door, slinging his jeans over his shoulder so that his hand was free to bang on the door for the hundredth time. 

"Samantha, Christ, if you don't hurry!" He shouted over the sound of the shower. 

"Shut up, Dean!" Sam replied, voice muffled. 

Some days, Dean wished he'd told Sam to get lost when he'd come looking for a place to stay after college, but Dean had kind of a soft spot for his little brother, so he'd ignored his inner voice and granted permission. He just... hadn't considered everything that would go into living with Sam again. Like, for example, how much longer his hair was post-Stanford than it had been when he was in middle school, before Dean moved into his own place. Or, another good one, the fact that living with Sam also meant living with his girlfriend Jess (who was actually really sweet, but it was a small house, okay?) The house was nothing spectacular, and cramped when Dean lived by himself, but now with two other housemates it was the equivalent of a New York Studio apartment, complete with the loud neighbors and faulty fire alarms... but, it was home. 

It was another ten minutes before Sam opened the door, and shoved past his brother, defiance painted all over his face. Dean had to seriously fight the urge to stick his tongue out at his brother which he was only a little ashamed to admit. He pushed his way into the bathroom, praying to whoever would listen that there would be some hot water left. But, then again, he'd never really believed that God was real - a suspicion that only grew when he stepped into the shower and was met with water colder than the Delaware in January. 

It was nine-thirty before he even left the house. A good thirty minutes late for work. 

His boss, Bobby, who was more of a father than a manager, especially after their biological father left them, was waiting in the garage when Dean finally did make it to work. Bobby was the kind of nice that was real nice. The kind that wasn't afraid to call you on your shit, but would probably feel really bad about it an hour later. He was a friend more than anything, who gave Dean more chances than he probably deserved, and was definitely on the short list of Dean's Most Important People. That didn't negate the chill that filled Dean's blood when he saw Bobby waiting for him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. 

"Do you have any idea how late you are?" Bobby asked gruffly. 

Dean tried for a winning smile, "Not as late as I could've been?" He supplied with a careful mask of confidence pulled over how genuinely guilty he was about being almost forty minutes late. When Dean walked toward him, Bobby smacked him upside the head with his baseball cap before replacing it and telling Dean to get to work. He made his way to the back office, stepped into his blue-gray Coveralls, and then met Bobby back in the garage where an absolutely beautiful Triumph TR7 awaited him. 

Because Dean had gotten to work so late, he made a deal with Bobby to work through his lunch break instead of holding the shop open late, therefore making Bobby stay overtime. It was one o'clock when Bobby fled the shop for his own break, leaving Dean alone in the garage with the TR7, which he'd almost finished with. A car pulled up outside, and Dean lifted his head in acknowledgement to see a familiar dark headed kid running towards him.

Dean straightened his position and wiped his hands on a greasy rag that probably did more harm than good. "Ben, hey!" Dean greeted, smiling. Ben hugged him, despite his grime covered uniform, causing his mother, Lisa Braeden, to scold him. Dean smiled up at Lisa from where he was crouched by Ben, who stood at a whopping three and a half feet, which, apparently, was tall for a five year old. "Hey, Lis." Dean said gently. 

"Hi," She said, "can we tempt you with lunch?" 

Dean wished he'd gotten to work on time. He sighed, "Man, I'd love nothing more, but I bargained with Bobby to work through so I didn't have to stay late." Ben looked dejected for a moment, but then he was distracted by a carburetor that was laying out on Bobby's cluttered workbench. 

"Late today?" Lisa asked, an amused smile curling over her mouth. She watched as Ben made his way to the carburetor, pulling himself up onto the stool to gaze at it longingly. If Lisa hadn't been there, Dean totally would have let him mess with it, and Ben totally knew it. 

"Yeah, Sam and his forever long showers." 

Lisa laughed. 

"Sorry I can't do lunch," Dean said. 

"Hey! Ben, don't touch that please," She said suddenly, making Dean turn to catch Ben with his hand hovering just above it, looking scandalized. She sighed but was smiling, "It's okay, maybe we can get dinner sometime this week." 

"Yeah," Dean said. "I would love to." 

"Good," she said, "It's a date. I'll try to find Ben a babysitter."

"Nah," Dean waved a hand dismissively, "bring him along. He's a cool kid." 

Lisa smiled again, something soft in her eyes, "Dean Winchester," she said quietly. "How did I get so lucky?" 

Dean felt his cheeks color, never one to take compliments well. "I'd say I'm pretty lucky myself." 

Lisa grinned and held her hand out for Ben who came running at the sight. "Call me, okay?" 

"Sure thing," Dean said flipping the rag he'd been holding over his shoulder so he could lean forward, take Lisa's hand and press a chaste kiss to her mouth. "See you later. Ben." 

"Bye," Ben said waving with his free hand as Lisa escorted him back to the car. 

Dean waited until he saw Lisa back out of the lot and head down the gravel driveway before he turned back to the TR7 and closed the hood. He went toward Bobby's workbench and glanced at the carburetor, trying to visualize which car on their lot was living without one. 

***

Castiel never really paid attention to what other people thought. He had grown up the middle child of five, so no one really paid much attention to him anyway, so when they did, he didn't have any qualms about it. As far as he was concerned, as long as he thought he was a good guy and all four of his friends thought the same, he could let everyone else go on thinking whatever they thought about him. Besides, it's not like he could make anyone think something different than what they already thought. 

Castiel looked up when Gabriel tapped the desk by Castiel's left elbow where he'd been leaning on the nurses station. He righted himself immediately, and told himself to smile. "How're the big leagues?" Gabriel asked with a waggle of his eyebrows. 

Castiel huffed a laugh almost to himself and then said, "You know I've worked here for years, you can come up with a better way to say hi." 

Gabriel rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, but I was still here before you, rookie." Now it was Castiel's turn to roll his eyes. 

Gabriel was a nurse that was supposed to be working upstairs in the pediatric ward, but somehow always found a way to trek down into the ICU for the sole purpose of annoying his younger brother. "Can I help you with something?" Castiel asked crossing his arms. A nurse that Castiel liked, a woman named Sonya, handed him a clipboard and he sent his thanks to her with a nod and smile. 

"You'd like to think so, wouldn't you, Cassie?" Gabriel said with his signature I'm-trying-to-piss-you-off-but-in-like-a-brotherly-way smirk. 

Castiel abandoned their conversation to focus on the information Sonya had given him. It wasn't really anything that important, just an update on some blood tests he had ordered for an elderly patient named Mr. Smith - they'd all come back negative for infection. Castiel looked up at Gabriel and said with a false sense of haste, "I have to go." Gabriel lifted an eyebrow, caught between believing what Castiel had said and having enough intuition to know that it was probably a lie. He let his brother hurry off without stopping him, despite his correct judgement.

Castiel embarked down the hallway, walking quickly until he was sure Gabriel had turned away out of boredom. He stopped by Mr. Smith's room, but the man was sleeping, so he continued down the hall, metal clipboard help tight in his left hand. He made his rounds, checking in idly on a few of his more critical patients, the majority of which were resting which was, decidedly, for the best. 

He went back to the nurses station with his head held high, hoping against hope that Gabriel had gone back to pediatrics so he could talk with the nurses on his own. He much preferred their company to his brother's. The nurses - Sonya, Anna, and Tessa - were some of the smartest people he had ever met, kind, sensible, and just annoyed with Gabriel enough that hanging around them offered some level of protection from his brother. He returned the clipboard to them at the front, and leaned forward to look at Anna over her computer monitor. "Can you page me if you notice that Mr. Smith is awake so I can go over his test results?" 

"Yeah, for sure," Anna said taking the clipboard from his outstretched hand and smiling at him nicely. 

"Thank you," Castiel said. 

His pager beeped with a code from Dr. Masters in the ER. He raised and eyebrow and hurried down the stairs in the back corner, arriving downstairs surely before an elevator would've deposited him. He found Meg quickly, a short, dark haired spitfire currently doing chest compressions on a woman who was bleeding through a massive wound in her chest. He rushed over to where Dr. Masters was, and she looked up at him, face severe, blood on one cheek. "She's bleeding out," a resident said sounding panicked. 

"What happened?" Castiel asked. 

"Multiple GWs to the right of her sternum," Meg said all cold efficiency. "Lost a pulse on her just a few seconds ago." 

"What can I do?" Castiel asked pulling on the gloves that a nurse offered him. 

"There's a second vic," Meg said, "Single GW to the thigh." 

"Right," Castiel said turning toward another person, a man, on a separate gurney. A resident was administering a central anesthetic to the patient and Castiel took the moment to address the man. "I'm Dr. Novak," he said, "let's get that out of there for you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dean pulled away from the curb and headed back to his home, praying that Sam was in bed so he could avoid the playful jeering at the expense of Dean's lovesick smile. 
> 
> He was never that lucky though. 
> 
> Sam was sitting in the recliner in Dean's living room reading the newspaper of all things, looking like every dad from a cheesy '80's sitcom. He flicked the paper down, just grinning at the door like he expected as much. "Kinda late, huh, Dean?" He teased."

Dean had one hand stretched behind Lisa's seat, Ben asleep beside them on the couch in Lisa's apartment. They'd been together for close to a year, and date nights had gone from being the most impressive thing Dean could come up with to dinner and a movie back at Lisa's. He was truly happy. Happier than he'd every given himself the ability to be. Lisa leaned her head on Dean's shoulder and looked up at him through dark eyelashes. "What are thinking about?" She asked him softly. 

"Hm? Oh, just," Dean rolled his eyes, God, he felt like a fucking Girl Scout, "I really like you Lisa. I really like Ben. I just, I like this." 

tLisa smiled and leaned up to kiss him. "I love you," She murmured.

Dean kissed her again. Love was a big word, and he didn't know if he was ready to say it back. Kissing her though... that he could do. She didn't make him say it back. Yet another reason to like her so much. He stayed through their movie, and then helped Lisa tuck Ben into bed, before he decided o take off. 

"You know," Lisa said as she walked him out to the Impala, "you could stay over if you wanted." Dean did want to, almost desperately, and he told her as much, but he had to go into work early in the morning to finish up a project that Bobby had asked him to do, and it was already almost midnight. He made a bitter noise low in his throat, which drew a beautiful laugh out of Lisa. "Next time," She said and Dean nodded eagerly. 

"If I say no again next time, you have permission to kick my ass," Dean mumbled against her mouth causing her to laugh again. 

"I'll remember that you said that," She told him. 

He pulled back and smiled. He got in his car and started it, reveling in the ferocious way the Impala roared to life. Lisa's neighbor's dog barked and Lisa tipped her head back and laughed. Dean pulled away from the curb and headed back to his home, praying that Sam was in bed so he could avoid the playful jeering at the expense of Dean's lovesick smile. 

He was never that lucky though. 

Sam was sitting in the recliner in Dean's living room reading the newspaper of all things, looking like every dad from a cheesy '80's sitcom. He flicked the paper down, just grinning at the door like he expected as much. "Kinda late, huh, Dean?" He teased. 

"Stuff it, Sam," Dean said dropping his keys on the table by the door and then pulling the door shut behind him and turning the lock. 

"You must be pretty serious about Lisa if you're not staying over after being out for so long," Sam said. 

Dean rolled his eyes, "Seriously, man."

"It's okay to admit that you like her."

"I do like her, that's not a secret." 

Sam made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "You know I'd like to meet her."

"Yeah that's not happening anytime soon," Dean said with a snort, pointing at his brother. 

"Why not?" Sam asked leaning forward over the paper that was now folded in his lap. 

"Introducing her to you and Jess makes it too real," Dean explained with a shrug. 

Sam looked like he wanted to say something else, but, instead, he just stood up and said, "I get it." Dean doubted if he really did or not. "Night, Dean." 

"You too," Dean said flipping the light switch off when Sam had retreated into his room. 

He headed down the hallway, unbuttoning his jeans as he walked and stepping out of them as he shut his bedroom door. The room was a warm, reprieve from the draftiness of his house which was almost lethal in the middle of December like they were right now. He dove into bed, savoring the brief few hours of sleep he got before six o'clock came around and Dean was forced back into the Impala trucking toward Singer's Auto Shop. 

It was still dark outside which was a little annoying to drive in, but other than that, the drive was fine. He tried his best to drive quickly but safely, deciding offhandedly to try a back road to the shop. It was a risky thing to do, because it had started to rain and he ran the risk of being late, but it was better than the sort-of-congested traffic conditions he was currently running into. 

He made it to work in record time. 

He filed the backroad away for future reference. 

***

Castiel looked up when Sam Winchester walked through the doors of the coffee shop they'd agreed to meet up at. He had met Sam through an introductory ASL class offered a few years ago at the Palo Alto Community Library. He and Sam had become fast friends, he had even been the one to introduce him to Jessica, and occasionally, they met up for coffee when Castiel had a day off. 

"Hey, man," Sam said pushing a hand through his hair and settling into the chair across from him. 

Castiel took a sip from his coffee and said, "Hello, Sam. How have you been?" 

Sam smiled and said, "I've been good. It's been a while since we've hung out. Have you been busy with work?" 

Castiel nodded, "Yeah, the ICU gets pretty hectic around Christmas time for some reason." 

Sam hummed and then rose from his seat, pointing toward the counter, "I'll be back," he assured. 

It took most of Castiel's restraint not to salute him as he walked away. He was a touch socially awkward, but he wouldn't resort to showing it that boldly. As he waited for Sam to return to their table, he counted back in his head to how long it had been since they'd met up to talk. The last time he actually remembered seeing Sam was in passing back in October. He tried not to feel hurt by the fact. 

Sam came to sit back down, rolling his shoulders and placing his coffee mug down in front of him. "So," he began leaning forward conspiratorially, Castiel had learned that he was supposed to lean forward too. "I'm thinking of asking Jess to marry me," Sam said grinning. 

"Sam!" Castiel gasped smiling so widely that it was almost like Sam had asked him to marry him. "That's wonderful! Have you got the ring yet?" 

"No," Sam rubbed the back of his neck and then continued, "I was wondering if you'd come with me to pick one out? I mean, you've known her for such a long time." 

"Of course, I will." Castiel said sounding very determined. He couldn't seem to stop smiling, "I'm so happy for you." 

"She hasn't said yes yet," Sam laughed. 

"She will," Castiel said sounding very matter-of-fact. Sam laughed again, "She'd be crazy not to, Sam." He added with a shake of his head. 

"Thanks, Cas." Sam said smiling. "I'm really glad you introduced us. You're like... I don't know Cupid." 

Castiel pulled a smile to his mouth and tried not to look offended. Because, Cupid? Honestly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ""You're our best ICU Attending." 
> 
> He was the only ICU Attending, but Castiel neglected to mention it."

Castiel's head jerked up from where he was talking with Gabriel and Meg down in the ER when he heard sirens wailing just outside. The ER was suddenly a flurry of activity, with Meg Masters shooting off toward the commotion like a rocket. There was a group of paramedics, residents, and nurses pushing a stretcher through the glass doors, someone already on top of the patient applying pressure to a severe looking wound. Over the raucous fervor of the crowd, Cas could hear Meg shouting orders at people from her place to the patient's left. "Get him to Center Stage!" 

"Jesus," Gabriel said, "there's the reason I don't work ER." 

Castiel nodded in silent, grim agreement, and then he turned away and headed for the elevator. 

The ICU was normally pretty calm, as surprising as that may seem, and Castiel often took that for granted. Only when he was in the ER did he truly realize how intensely lucky he actually was to have a job where he could dedicate most of his time to a handful of patients who - if Castiel were going to brag - typically made it out of his unit. He took a breath and stepped out of the elevator and towards the nurse's station. 

Tessa looked up at him as he approached, "Look a little pale there, doc," she said worriedly. 

"I'm fine," Castiel said. Truth being that he really didn't like loud, chaotic situations. 

"Okay," Tessa said, "Hey, Mrs. Hutchinson was asking to see you when you got a chance." 

"Thank you, Tessa," Castiel said making his way to her room. 

Mrs. Hutchinson was a middle aged woman with a hoard of teenage daughters who was in the ICU because of a recent bone marrow transplant to treat her Leukemia. She was in the ICU to be watched for infection, but so far, things were going well for her post-op and Castiel was hopeful that she'd be free to leave sometime soon. He grabbed her chart from the bin on the door, and knocked before pushing it open. She was his favorite patient. 

Once inside, Castiel noticed that she wasn't alone. Around her, were three of her daughters. One was asleep in the bed with her mother, one was sitting in the chair on her cellphone, and the other was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, speaking to her mother. "Good evening, Mrs. Hutchinson," He began, "I didn't realize that you had visitors, I can come back later if you'd like?" 

"Dr. Novak, no, you're fine," she said with a smile. 

"Tessa said that you wanted to speak with me," Castiel said, "is everything alright?" 

Mrs. Hutchinson's eldest daughter - the one standing at the wall - said, "We're worried about sepsis." 

Mrs. Hutchinson rolled her eyes, "Jane is worried about sepsis, Doctor. I'm not." 

Castiel turned to address Jane, and said, "Thank you for voicing your concern, Ms. Hutchinson." 

"You can call me Jane," She said anxiously shifting her weight. 

"Thank you, Jane," Castiel said, hesitating before he continued. "As you likely know, your mother underwent a very serious procedure, however, my team and I have been watching over her very carefully to make sure everything is going well. We haven't seen any reason to suspect that there is any sort of infection present." Jane still looked nervous. "I'll go ahead and order some tests, if that would assuage your worries." He looked to Mrs. Hutchinson and found her eyes on him already, she was smiling softly. She nodded. 

"Thank you," Jane said, "for taking me seriously." 

"Of course," Castiel said, "it's my job to take every concern seriously. Is there anything else I can do for you?" 

"No, thank you, Dr. Novak," Mrs. Hutchinson said quietly, running her fingers through her daughter's light hair. 

Castiel smiled at them and excused himself from the room, depositing her chart. He made his rounds, and, before he took off for the night, pulled Mrs. Hutchinson's chart again. He took it over to Tessa at the counter and said, "Would you mind ordering a blood test and CT Scan for Mrs. Hutchinson, please?"

"Is everything okay?" Tessa asked.

"Her daughter is worried about the possibility of infection," Castiel said. 

"There aren't any indicators are there?" Sonya asked tensely. Mrs. Hutchinson was well loved around there.

He shook his head, "No, but Mrs. Hutchinson consented to the tests," Castiel said, "She wants her daughter to feel secure, and, honestly, so do I." 

Tessa smiled kindly at him and handed the chart to Sonya to file away, "Sure thing, Cas." 

Castiel tapped his fingers on the counter, offering her a smile and then started to turn, but bumped into his supervisor, Dr. Zachariah Murphy. He was dressed in a sharp gray suit, and he gripped Castiel's shoulder and held him at length. Cas would be lying if he said he wasn't intimidated. Zachariah had small, beady eyes and more of a grimace than a smile. He steered Castiel away from the nurse's station. He sent a helpless look to Sonya and Tessa. 

"Dr. Novak," Zachariah said, "are you aware of the status of the man who was brought into the ER earlier?" 

Castiel thought for a moment, "No, sir, but I was downstairs when they brought him in. Dr. Masters sent him to Center Stage, but that's the extension of my knowledge on the patient." 

Zachariah made a choked noise that Castiel couldn't decipher, and then he spoke firmly. "His status isn't ideal for regular patient care. Frankly, we're concerned about the risk of permanent damage to multiple sites. He's got several injuries, and we've in a bit of a time crunch with his procedure." Castiel didn't speak, because he knew Zachariah wasn't finished. "He's been under for almost as long as he's been here." He checked his shiny Rolex, "Nearly an two and a half hours." 

"What happened to him?" Castiel asked. 

"Car accident," Dr. Murphy replied. Castiel had schooled his expression into something he hoped conveyed sympathy instead of horror. There was a reason he had never learned to drive. "If he makes it out of the surgery, I'm placing him under your care specifically. You're our best ICU Attending." 

He was the only ICU Attending, but Castiel neglected to mention it. 

Zachariah finally dropped the arm that he had around Castiel's shoulders and said, "Good luck." 

"Um, sir," Castiel said, stopping him before he turned away. "What's the patient's name?" 

"Far as we can tell," Zachariah said, "he doesn't have one." 

"He's a John Doe?" Castiel asked. 

"No wallet." He confirmed with a shrug, and then he was off down the hall without another word. 

Throughout their talk, Zachariah had been walking Castiel toward the Doctor's Lounge. Castiel blinked at the door and then shook his head and pushed it open. He went inside, clocked out and shrugged out of his white coat. He hung the coat in his locker and then headed out for the night.


	4. Chapter 4

When Castiel came into work the next day, he was down to two patients, Mrs. Hutchinson and John Doe. They'd discharged Mr. Smith from the ICU onto the Floor Unit to be monitored by the fully capable nursing staff downstairs. He was glad at the recovery, and he greeted his nurses with a smile, "Good morning." 

"Morning, doc," Anna said with a smirk, "We're all very lucky today." 

"Is that so?" Castiel asked, looking from Anna to Sonya who only rolled her eyes and made Cas stifle a laugh. 

"John Doe's a looker," Tessa added and Anna laughed. 

Castiel resisted the urge to go look, because that would be unprofessional, but he did raise an eyebrow and say, "Huh." 

"Anyway," Sonya said, ever the mother of the bunch, "the tests for infection on Mrs. Hutchinson came back negative, she's all good. Honestly, she could be ready to be moved back to Oncology." 

"Let's hold off on that for at least today. Let's get her some breakfast and if she can hold that we'll let her go back." Castiel said and Sonya smiled.

"Softie," Tessa teased, and he rolled his eyes. 

"How is the John Doe? Have we gotten his name?" Castiel asked. 

Anna dug for a moment and handed him the John Doe's chart. "Med coma," she said. 

Castiel nodded laying the file flat on the counter and looking over it carefully. He'd suffered several lacerations to internal organs, a few broken bones, and a head injury that was putting intense pressure on his other organs. He'd come out of surgery a couple of hours after Castiel had left, just shy of the six hour mark that could've proven more harmful than helpful. They'd hooked him up to a ventilator and an IV drip that was working to reduce the swelling going on in his brain. The medication would be enough in a few hours to take care of the swelling, and then, when they brought him out of the medical coma, they could give him a while to recover and then put him under and look for a more lasting solution. It was commonplace for the ICU. 

"Right," Castiel said, "Guess I'll go check him out, and tell Mrs. Hutchinson the good news." 

Anna said, "Yeah you will!" and Tessa wolf-whistled. Castiel rolled his eyes, but was smiling, and he made his way to Mrs. Hutchinson's room to deliver the good news. 

Mrs. Hutchinson was awake and alone for one of the first times. "Good morning," Castiel said to her as he entered. He took note of the somewhat sickly pallor of her skin. "How are you feeling?" 

"Well," She said straightening her position and grimacing a little, "it's cancer, so not great." Castiel nodded, but Mrs. Hutchinson sighed and shook her head, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you." 

"Please, Mrs. Hutchinson, you won't hurt my feelings," Castiel smiled at her and added, "I'm your doctor, you're more than allowed to vent to me. Would you tell me what the problem is right now?"

Mrs. Hutchinson watched him closely, "I just feel weak. I'm used to it, Dr. Novak." 

Castiel nodded, "Would it be alright if I checked your blood pressure?" 

Mrs. Hutchinson consented, and Castiel grabbed the blood pressure cuff from the rack on the IV pole. He placed it around her arm and started administering the test. While he did so, Mrs. Hutchinson asked, "Do you have any children?" 

Castiel glanced at her face to see if she was serious. She seemed to be. Castiel cleared his throat. "No, ma'am," he said. 

She hummed, "You're very good with them." Castiel looked back at the monitor in his hand and let her continue speaking. "When you spoke with Jane yesterday," she said, "that was the first time I'd seen her so calm. I really appreciate that you took her seriously." 

"Of course, Mrs. Hutchinson. It's my duty as a medical professional and as your ally in all of this," Castiel said unfastening the cuff and putting it back on the rack. "Your blood pressure is good." She nodded. "I'd like you to try eating something this morning," Castiel told her. Polite but firm. "If you can keep it down, I see no reason why we can't move you back to Oncology tonight." 

Mrs. Hutchinson smiled, "So, my tests were good?" 

"Yes," Castiel affirmed with a smile, "Everything looked normal. We'd need to release you to oncology for at least a night and, provided everything goes well while you're there, I'm sure you could be discharged as soon as Friday morning." 

Castiel had been working for long enough that when Mrs. Hutchinson snatched his wrist and pulled him into a hug, he'd been halfway expecting it. She was crying and laughing, and Castiel tentatively returned her hug. "Thank you so much," She said wetly, pulling away from him to look in his eyes. "You have no idea how much this means to me." She laughed again and said, "Oh, thank you." 

"It was all you, Mrs. Hutchinson," Castiel replied, "congratulations." 

She fumbled on the table next to her for her cellphone. "I have to call my family," She said with a laugh. Castiel smiled at her again, and pulled the door shut behind him. 

Castiel made his way down the hall to John Doe's room, and entered quietly. Sonya was inside checking his temperature and adjusting the medication in his drip. The man was badly injured, and bruising clouded his features. Castiel looked at him carefully, trying to distinguish whether or not he knew the man. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Castiel chalked it up to wanting to know more when he kept drawing blanks as to his identity. He approached the bed slowly, and Sonya looked up at him. 

"Looks rough, doesn't he?" She said softly. 

Castiel made a noncommittal noise and said, "Strong, though." Sonya agreed. "He's got a strong heart rate," Castiel indicated the EKG monitor. "We could bring him out." 

"Shows swelling has gone down," Sonya noted. 

"We'll remove the vent and make sure he can sustain himself, and then we'll bring him out. I'll page someone from PACU to come monitor him while he's waking up and then we'll press for information, to see if he remembers anything," Castiel told her with a nod. 

"Sure thing, Doc," Sonya replied. 

They'd managed to get him off of the vent and onto some lighter drugs by noon. He was awake by two-nineteen, and Castiel knew this, because the nurses call button lit up like a solar flare and was being pressed repeatedly enough that Castiel was paged about it. Castiel was into the room and crossing the floor towards John Doe in minutes flat. He was in the process of ripping his IV out when Castiel intercepted him, gripping the back of his hand gently, and lifting it away from the opposite wrist. 

"Sir," Castiel said, voice tight, "I need you to leave that where it is, please." 

The man looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes dark with rage. "Look, whatever the hell you've got me hooked up to needs out. I want to be discharged. Why the fuck am I here?" 

"Sir," Castiel began again, taken aback by the ferocity in the man's voice. "You were in a car accident." John Doe blinked and then suddenly pain seemed to kick in and he lifted a hand to his head and winced, breathing in sharply. 

"My car?" he asked slowly, voice foggy. He shook his head lightly, the rage that had been there moments ago had faded to a low boiling anger that was only visible because Castiel was used to it. "Where the hell am I? And don't say "the hospital," because, obviously, I know that. I mean which one." 

Castiel took a second to let his mind catch up. The man pulled his arm out of Castiel's grip lightly, and, awkwardly, Castiel let his hand slip into the pocket of his coat. He cleared his throat and then said, "The Stanford University Medical Center." John Doe glanced down at his hands. "Intensive Care," Castiel added, "specifically." 

"Holy shit." 

Castiel hummed in agreement, "You're very lucky to be alive, Mr..."

"Winchester," the man said, "Dean."


End file.
